


You Keep Me Wet ('Til I Run Dry)

by lighterdenial



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: B/D not S/M, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, F/F, Griddlehark, Harrow has a strap and knows how to use it, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Restraints, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strap-Ons, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, lots of kissing as usual, perfect lyctorhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lighterdenial/pseuds/lighterdenial
Summary: Perfect Lyctorhood comes with the added bonus of Harrow and Gideon being able to hear one another's thoughts. This ranges from slightly inconvenient to downright filthy given Gideon and Harrow's established relationship, active sex life, and Gideon's rich and varied imagination.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	You Keep Me Wet ('Til I Run Dry)

Perfect Lyctorhood was everything that Harrow hoped it would be – the heartfelt reunion with her longtime enemy, current cavalier-slash-lover, complete with lots of sappy kissing, and (even though they had an actual eternity in front of them because they were functionally immortal) still not enough time touching each other. Harrow still wasn’t sure how the universe had conspired to give her a Gideon who not only thought she was hot but did something about that pretty much every night, but she wasn’t complaining. 

Unfortunately, it also came with a heaping dose of “Gideon Nav’s ability to tap into her brain, and vice versa, at any given moment,” which could either be incredibly convenient or inconvenient depending on whatever singular thought was bouncing around Nav’s empty head. Most of the time, it was something utterly inane, like “Boy, I missed my abs while I was hanging out in the back of Harrowhark’s brain” or “I wonder what’s for dinner? Not soup again” or “Ianthe Tridentarius is a total bitch and I hope she eats shit.” Harrow had caught on to how to screen her thoughts from Gideon incredibly quickly, but her cavalier was clearly having a harder time learning that most of the things she thought were beamed straight into Harrow’s brain. Sometimes when a Gideon Thought floated into Harrow’s head, she found herself actively losing brain cells. Those were all easy to ignore. 

The awful ones, not so much. Harrow learned intimately about Gideon was that she was basically down to fuck 24/7, which was awesome when they were in their bedroom alone and… not awesome when they were in a conference room with Camilla and Palamedes (who sometimes piloted Camilla, which was a thing everyone was still getting used to) and Blood of Eden, making plans to kill God-slash-Gideon’s-dad. Especially right before Harrow was about to say something smart and necromantic and was basically opening her mouth to talk about how they could use the same principles they used to kill Cytherea to try and overwhelm God, but instead, a strangled choking noise came out when the newest Gideon Thought was a projected memory from a few nights ago of Harrow fucking Gideon from behind with a strap-on. 

“Are you okay?” Camilla asked, concerned. 

“I’m fine,” Harrow replied, grateful that her paint and the high-necked shirt she wore under her robe hid the brief flush of her cheeks. She sat up even straighter and leaned forward slightly. “Go ahead with what you were saying.” Camilla inclined her head and Palamedes surfaced, blinking once, and continuing, “With at least two of us having achieved perfect Lyctorhood, albeit only three bodies, we stand a much better chance of surviving an attack on the Emperor…”

 _Griddle,_ Harrow thought pointedly, _that was revolting._

 _But you liked it, gloom mistress,_ her cavalier thought smugly. 

_It’s entirely inappropriate. Keep your thoughts to yourself._

_I can’t help it,_ Gideon whined telepathically. _You’re sitting there all… hot, and it’s been three hours already._

 _You’ll sit there and be good and keep your thoughts to yourself or I’ll make sure you regret it tonight,_ Harrow thought with a slightly larger-than-average measure of satisfaction. 

_Promise?_ Gideon raised her eyebrows and sent over an image of Harrow sitting on her face. _I doubt you have it in you to make me regret anything._

 _Keep that up and you’ll find out._ It was Harrow’s turn to look smug and, grateful that no one else was privy to their private conversation, sent over an image of skeletal hands restraining Gideon to their bedframe spread-eagle. A threat, not a memory. Gideon, who did not wear Ninth House paint, blushed almost as red as her hair and unsubtly bit down on her own left pointer knuckle. For the rest of the meeting, she kept her thoughts to herself.

-

Gideon retired to their rooms almost immediately after dinner, which was a chickpea and tomato curry rehydrated and served over rice (Harrow only ate the rice, while Gideon had seconds and also all of the curry that was supposed to accompany Harrow’s rice). Harrow couldn’t help but notice, as Gideon left, that three or more square meals a day was a very positive thing for her girlfriend’s rear end, and where Gideon had previously been all defined muscle, she now had a few soft curves, fat settling over her still-impressive form. She hadn’t lost any muscle tone, but she had gained a smoothness that Harrow appreciated. Harrow herself had lost her hungry, unhealthy pallor, though she still ate little and never exercised. 

Harrow waited a full half hour, lingering in the now-empty conference room and idly taking notes on an old necromantic text, intentionally going slower than she strictly had to in order to really understand and absorb the material. 

_Nerd,_ came Gideon’s disembodied voice in her head. She ignored it. A moment or two later: _Tease._

 _I’m busy, Griddle,_ Harrow thought exasperatedly. _Find something to do to occupy yourself._

Gideon sent over an image of herself on their bed, legs spread, two fingers working in and out of her dripping cunt. _Like this?_

_You’re disgusting. Positively lecherous._

_And you’re a skull-faced fruitcake._ The image of Gideon in Harrow’s mind stretched herself with a third finger. 

_Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?_

_Come find out,_ Gideon challenged. _Didn’t you threaten to use one of your creepy bone constructs to tie me to the bed like, four hours ago?_

Harrow pretended she did not recall, but five minutes later, she found herself wholly unable to concentrate and shut the book with a snap. 

_You asked for it_ , she thought, neatly organizing the sheets of flimsy into a folder with a sweep of her hand and standing up, moving with poorly concealed haste back to their rooms, thankfully passing no one. 

She burst in the door to find that the image Gideon had sent earlier was actually a live show, Gideon’s powerful thighs flexing as she fingered herself, splayed out on their bed completely naked. One hand was squeezing her left breast and teasing her nipple while the other had three fingers buried in herself. With a flick of her wrist, Harrow created a few small constructs from some of the ambient bones that were always lying about in their bedroom (usually for non-sex purposes) and held them at the ready. 

“What in all the Nine Houses are you doing, Griddle?” she asked in a high, cold voice that didn’t completely conceal her own desire. 

“I’m jerking off and waiting for my ridiculously hot girlfriend to tie me to the bed and rail me, obviously,” Gideon said, grinning, then seductively biting her lip. 

“You’re impossible,” Harrow said, “How many times have you came?” 

“I said I was waiting for you.” That quickened Harrow’s blood and she languidly stalked over to their bed, the constructs following her. 

“How sweet,” she said, before using the disembodied skeletal hands to grab and drag Gideon’s wrists forcibly to the headboard and snap her legs flat, spread, against the bed. “But you’ve been quite distracting all afternoon, and I’ll have to punish you for that.” She noticed with some satisfaction that Gideon only tested them with a small, experimental tug and didn’t fight. 

“You need to learn your place, Nav,” Harrow leaned over Gideon and ran her hand through Gideon’s hair gently before leaning in to give her the ghost of a kiss. “I’m here to teach you that it’s always been underneath me.” Moving languidly, she started to strip off her layers of clothing, starting by removing her paint with a rag, then with her robe and shoes, leaving her earrings in and not bothering to take off the smooth bone choker or studs decorating her ears that she usually wore, but taking special care to remove her rings and bracelets and set them safely on the small table across the room. 

_Have I ever told you that you’re so hot when you’re giving me a striptease?_

“Shut up, Griddle, or I will shut you up myself.” 

“Make me, bone empress.” 

Harrow opened the bottom drawer of the nightstand beside their bed and drew out the large black toy attached to a harness, stepping into it without any particular ritual as Gideon’s hungry eyes followed her. Her cavalier’s mouth opened slightly, which gave Harrow an idea. 

Climbing on the bed and kneeling over Gideon’s shoulders, she lined up the toy with Gideon’s mouth. “Suck,” she ordered. “It’s all the lube I’m giving you,” and Gideon obediently opened her mouth and accepted the thick toy, working her jaw. 

_Tell me if it’s too much._

_You couldn’t give me too much if you tried, Nonagesimus_ , came the retort, to which Harrow rotated her hips forward and Gideon swallowed, narrowly avoiding gagging, but continued to suck and lick the toy. _This all you got?_

 _I haven’t even gotten started, Nav,_ and with that, Harrow pulled out the toy and moved down Gideon’s ridiculously perfect abs to line up her strap-on with Gideon’s pussy, and the noises that her cavalier made when Harrow finally sank into her were worth an entire week’s annoyance during conferences, and she was so wet that Harrow probably hadn’t even needed to use Gideon’s mouth for lube. 

“Move,” Gideon gasped. 

“Beg for it,” Harrow commanded. “Earn it.” 

“Please, Harrow, please, fuck me, I need it, I need you,” Gideon begged, “Please fuck me.” Harrow wrapped one hand around Gideon’s throat, lightly, avoiding applying any pressure but using it to stabilize herself as she started to move as slowly as she could and leaning down for a long kiss. 

Gideon keened, the toy big enough to stretch her even though she had already been opened up by three of her own fingers, pulling in earnest at the hands holding her to the bed. The toy was curved just right to press up against her walls, Harrow’s angle true. 

“Harrow, I need more,” Gideon said. “Please, more.” She was biting down on her lip again, and for a moment, Harrow ignored her words, watching her arms tense uselessly and her fingers reach to try and touch her. 

“Are you going to be good in meetings from now on?” Harrow asked. “Are you going to stop sending me filth when I’m trying to work?” 

“Yes, anything, please just give me more, fuck me, use me,” Gideon promised, voice wrecked from taking the toy in her throat and what was likely several hours of arousal coming to a head. 

With that, Harrow steadily braced herself on the bed and pulled as far back as she could, leaving Gideon empty and searching for more, then in one fluid move, plunged her toy back in and began to press down on Gideon’s neck at the same time, choking her lightly. She moved her other hand to grip Gideon’s hipbone, digging her claw-like fingernails into her pelvis. She wanted Gideon to have marks for days. She wanted to fuck her hard enough that she would feel it for days afterwards, to wreck her, mark her, prove that Gideon belonged to her and only her – 

_I want that too,_ Gideon thought, and Harrow didn’t realize that she had been sharing those thoughts, but instead of pulling back and cloaking them further, she let Gideon have everything, fucking her at the most ruthless pace she could muster and maintaining consistent pressure on Gideon’s neck. 

_You're mine, all mine, I'm going to show everybody, want everyone to know that you belong to me, and that no one else can have you._ As she picked up the pace, she felt the base of her strap-on rubbing against her clit, and encouraged by the filthy sounds that Gideon was making, she felt herself getting closer and closer to orgasm. 

_I love you,_ Gideon thought, and then came hard, clenching around Harrow’s cock and finally shattering the constructs, reaching her arms around her necromancer and pulling her legs up to bend at the knee, pulling Harrow to her chest as Harrow’s hands flew to Gideon’s hair, tangling and pressing their lips together in a bruising, biting, passionate kiss. Gideon rode out her orgasm as Harrow’s pace slowed and carefully pulled out of Gideon’s cunt. 

_Do you need-_ Gideon asked. 

_Your thigh,_ Harrow sent back urgently, tearing off the straps of the toy and pressing herself against one of Gideon’s muscle-bound legs. Just – stay still, and kissed her hungrily as Gideon’s hands snuck up to play with Harrow’s breasts and Harrow got closer, gasping disjointed praise: “Perfect – love – I’m going to – “ 

“Come for me, Harrow,” Gideon whispered, leaning up to kiss Harrow again, and Harrow burst against her, I love you, Gideon, spilling into Gideon’s head. For a while, they lay together in post-coital glow before Harrow began to sit up. 

“You’re sticky, Griddle,” she said, warmth in her voice. “Shower with me.” 

“Yes, my penumbral lady,” Gideon said, holding on to her a little tighter. “I really do love you.” 

“I love you too,” Harrow said, placing a kiss on the end of Gideon’s nose. “Even though you’re constantly sending me sick pornographies during important meetings.” 

“If I didn’t send you sick pornographies, you wouldn’t have fucked me six ways from Sunday into the bed five minutes ago, which was my original intent,” Gideon pointed out, looking innocent. 

“You’re impossible,” Harrow rolled her eyes. “Up. Shower. I will not be cuddling with you unless you wash. You smell like sex.”

“Whose fault is that?” Gideon sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll grab towels if you go start the water.” And with that, she sent an image of her pressing Harrow against the shower wall, Harrow’s legs locked around Gideon’s waist, both of them deeply in a passionate embrace under the steaming water.

“Griddle!” But Harrow did consider that she could probably go again, and that touching Gideon was absolutely her favorite thing in the entire world, and all in all, she was more grateful than exasperated, so she started the water and sent Gideon back an image of Harrow kissing down her jaw and throat to encourage her to hurry with the towels.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! This oneshot idea crept into my head and wouldn't leave until i put it out into the world, so here it is, and here I am, and I could totally write a shower scene that takes place directly after if there's interest in a shower scene.  
> Also, I'm still working on a vampire/vampire hunter AU, I'm about 1/3 of the way through and I want to completely finish it before I release it! But it's always nice to write something fun and light without angst or pain.
> 
> Title from Dazey and the Scouts' song "Wet", which has taken up part-time residence in my head and on my playlists.


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